


to be a family

by freezerjerky



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Bad Days, Bad Parenting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 18:44:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17028015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky
Summary: This is his fault, he realizes, for sending out traditional invitations. Newt insisted that they could do this electronically, at least to receive RSVPs, but Hermann was intrigued by the old fashioned charm of it. After all, they’d only invited about a hundred people, it couldn’t be that many to sort through. Naturally, they’d all been coming in large batches over the past three days. He’d sorted them into piles, those attending, those not attending, and those that have special or odd requests. Weddings are difficult and complicated things and Hermann is daily debating telling Newt that his original plan was the best idea and they should elope.He’s gotten to the last one of the batch when he freezes, staring down at a response. He slides his fingers over the looping handwriting, familiar in a painful way. They’ve left a space for comments and this one will sit with him forever. His reverie is broken by the door all but bursting open and moments later Newt’s stomping into the apartment to the kitchen.or Hermann has a very bad day and a very good man





	to be a family

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zach_stone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zach_stone/gifts).



> For AJ. I hope both the hurt and comfort are adequate

It’s been a damn long day already before Hermann leaves his office. He’s faced a queue of students about a half mile long complaining about grades on their midterms only to discover that his TA has made an error in grading and now he’ll have to fix everything himself. Then he drops the exams on his way out of the office and has to collect them from the ground, which pains his leg. There’s nothing he wants more than to go home and forget about the day.

Naturally, there’s traffic on the drive home. Hermann ends up at their apartment nearly forty five minutes after he’s usually home and everything already aches, internally and externally. He needs a hot dinner and a soak in the tub at the very least. There’s a stack of mail waiting for him on the sideboard to file through, mail that Newt will inevitably ignore if it’s left to him, so Hermann knows he can’t leave it to Newt or it will go long ignored. Instead of doing any of the things he wants to do, he settles at the kitchen table and sorts through the clutter.

This is his fault, he realizes, for sending out traditional invitations. Newt insisted that they could do this electronically, at least to receive RSVPs, but Hermann was intrigued by the old fashioned charm of it. After all, they’d only invited about a hundred people, it couldn’t be that many to sort through. Naturally, they’d all been coming in large batches over the past three days. He’d sorted them into piles, those attending, those not attending, and those that have special or odd requests. Weddings are difficult and complicated things and Hermann is daily debating telling Newt that his original plan was the best idea and they should elope.

He’s gotten to the last one of the batch when he freezes, staring down at a response. He slides his fingers over the looping handwriting, familiar in a painful way. They’ve left a space for comments and this one will sit with him forever. His reverie is broken by the door all but bursting open and moments later Newt’s stomping into the apartment to the kitchen.

“Hey, Herms.” Newt’s immediately wrapping an arm around him and kissing the top of his head. “I brought some Chinese home for dinner. What’s up?”

“Just- I’m sorting RSVPs,” Hermann explains, trying to slide the offending piece of paper to the bottom of the pile so Newt can’t see it.

“Is that-” Newt reaches down and slides it back forward. “The bastard.”

“Lars cannot make it to the wedding. Apparently he has ‘business to attend to’ and ‘wishes me luck on the venture’, just me, please note. Not my partner. What business does he have six months from now?”

“I’m sorry, babe. He’s- he’s something.” Newt makes a sound of frustration.

“I suppose it’s the answer I needed. This was my offered olive branch and he’s rejected it.”

Newt kisses the top of his head again. “You don’t need him.”

“I know that. The rest of my family- my brothers and sister will all be there. I don’t need him there. I don’t need someone who doesn’t want me to be at my wedding.”

Despite this statement, Hermann feels an acute pain in his chest, not physical enough to worry, but it still aches. There are few things he’d wanted more in the past than the love and approval of his father, to be patted on the head and told that he was doing good work. He doesn’t think that’s too much to ask, for his father to love him and to, on occasion, feel something resembling pride when he thinks about him.

“Your family’s gonna be there,” Newt says, as though it’s some big grand answer.

“I just said that.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Hemann feels Newt press his cheek to the top of his head. “I mean your family’s gonna be there. That’s sort of what a wedding is about, isn’t it?”

Hermann pulls away so he can turn and face Newt. Sometimes, Newt makes sense and that alone is a jarring fact. Weddings are, at their core, about the creation of families. More importantly, Hermann realizes, his family is already with him, alone in their kitchen. It doesn’t lessen the sting that his father doesn’t want him.

“I’ve had a long day, darling. Maybe we can talk about this more later.”

“Of course. Let’s eat dinner in the living room.”

Normally Hermann protests but he finds very little more appealing than that. They settle on the couch together, poking in their respective containers of food with chopsticks, and offering each other bits when they ask to share. Newt chats about his day, which is typical, but Hermann is even more quiet than usual. He’ll have to fix the papers as soon as possible, and he’ll have to tell his siblings that their father isn’t coming to the wedding so they’re aware. The first pangs of a migraine throb above his left eye, even as he eats.

When Newt notices that he’s gone quiet, he collects their containers and puts away the leftovers, packaging everything up neatly. Most likely, Newt will end up standing in front of the fridge after midnight, eating cold lo mein out of the container. Hermann’s discovered him like this on multiple occasions, looking rumpled and tired as he eats.

“You should go to bed,” Newt says, standing in the doorway of the living room as Hermann rubs his temples.

“It’s not even eight, Newton.”

“I didn’t say you had to sleep…”

“Not tonight, darling. I’ve got a headache.”

“I know.” Newt moves over to him, offering his hand. Hermann takes it, letting Newt help him to his feet and then wrap an arm around his waist. “You make this sour face when you have a migraine and it would be cute if you weren’t in pain.”

“I don’t need coddled,” Hermann protests, but leans against Newt anyway.

“I know that. But I have a big need to coddle you, so think of this as doing a service to me.”

They walk very carefully to the bedroom and Newt helps Hermann sit before walking around the bed to switch on his bedside lamp instead of Hermann’s, just to keep the light more remote. Hermann watches him for a moment before he slips out of his sweater, not bothering to toss it in the hamper, and then undoes the buttons of his shirt.

Newt collects the discarded clothing and moves them to the hamper before he strips down as well, standing by the bed in his boxers.

“Do you need anything?” Newt asks. “Pain pills? Water? Hot water bottle?”

Hermann turns a smile to him. “All of the above, if you can.”

“Of course.”

The migraine is still just in its earliest throb, but Hermann can feel it threaten to become worse, to develop into the type of pain that leaves him nauseous. Sometimes, he’d rather claw at his face than deal with the pain that comes with these migraines, and it certainly doesn’t help that his leg is starting to hurt.

By the time Newt’s returned to the room, Hermann’s burrowed himself under the quilt and hidden from the world. He peeks out to look at Newt, though, who offers a glass of water and a few pills before slipping into the bed beside him.

It takes a few moments for Hermann to process the warmth of the hot water bottle pressing against his hip and it’s blissful relief. Newt’s alarmingly good at caretaking, giving how selfish and careless he can appear in his day to day life.

“Do you want me to go?” Newt half whispers. (Hermann thinks this is a whisper for Newt, but volume control is always an issue when he’s involved.)

“You can stay,” Hermann says, after he’s swallowed his pills. “I’m sorry. I feel like I’m being a dramatic child about this.”

“You’re upset. Your father has...your father’s an asshole. I’m just gonna leave it at that.”

Hermann chuckles despite himself. “Yes, that’s a word you could use.”

“And I want to give him not being at our wedding the gravity it deserves, because he’s still your dad regardless. I mean, this is why I didn’t even bother to invite my mom and we have a more- Monica never asked anything of me. Lars asked you for the damn world.”

He grimaces and pulls the blankets up higher. Newt takes this cue to lean over and turn his lamp off so they’re both bathed in the darkness of the room.

“And you gave him the world,” Newt continues. “And then you understood the world better than him. You did better than him. And you deserve a better father. You deserve a better life.”

“I have a better life and Karla and Bastien and Dietrich will all be there and I have them but…”

Newt slides closer, presses his cheek to Hermann’s shoulder. “Part of you is always gonna want his approval.”

The silence, the utter lack of a response, is enough of an answer, Hermann knows. He’s been in Newt’s head and he doesn’t actually need to say anything to convey the complicated and frankly awful things he’s feeling.

“I’m gonna love you every day of my life,” Newt says, turning to kiss his shoulder. “I’m gonna love you so much and I’m gonna take care of you and I know there’s holes in your heart and damage that I can’t fix but I want to- I want to try to make this better.”

“Newton, darling.” Hermann turns to him, even though it’s meaningless in this dark. “You’re already doing so much. Earlier, you were right. You are my family, and everyone who goes to that wedding is my family.”

“And you know my dad thinks the world of you. It’s not exactly the same but he won’t shut up about how proud he is of you and how great he thinks you are.”

Oh, Hermann suddenly feels like he’s twelve again at that. Someone he respects, an authority figure singing his praises and telling him he’s done good. But Newt’s father is not a teacher and he’s not Hermann’s father. He’s a man with Newt’s kind eyes and grey hair and a tendency to laugh too loud at jokes that aren’t funny. Yes, that will work just fine for a family.

“I think you’ll find you’re the one he’s proud of, liebling.”

“I won’t permit that, dude. He’s proud of both of us. He shows everyone pictures on his phone and tells them how lucky I am to have you. My uncle’s told me.”

“Alright, I’ll allow that.” Hermann closes his eyes, takes a deep breath.

“And you’ve got everyone from the PPDC. Like the entire PPDC thinks you’re a cool rockstar, dude. And we’ve been through shit together, that’s what a family does.”

That is, indeed, what a family does. Nothing can fill a Lars shaped hole, but maybe it’s best to cast that need aside. Hermann is, after all, nearing forty. His need for a father is long gone.

“We’re like their weird cousins,” Hermann adds.

“Or uncles, some of those people are just kids, shit. How cool is it that they still have whole lives ahead of them?”

“It’s incredible, Newton. But you know I don’t need talked through all the family I have. I have you, which is far more than enough.”

“You do.” Newt ventures sliding an arm around his middle. “You have me and we take care of each other. And maybe one day we’ll decide to have a family of our own.”

Hermann snorts. He hadn’t considered the option, but Newt’s delivering it with some gravity, even in his comforting tone.

“You’re right,” Hermann says at length. “We could have a family of our own. But let’s focus on the wedding first.” He places his hand over Newt’s and moves them both to his stomach. “I’m going to sleep now, I’m sorry.”

“What’re you sorry for? You need to make that migraine go away.” Newt slides his hand up, brushes Hermann’s hair out of his forehead, even if he can’t see it in the dark. “I’ll be here when you wake up, and if I’m not just shout and I’ll come running.” He moves his hand back to Hermann’s stomach.

The world is not perfectly right when he drifts off, his head is throbbing, there’s an ache in his leg, and something’s missing from his perfect day, but Hermann knows he’s a lucky man.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter @ newtguzzler and tumblr @ pendragoff


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